Another Satisfied Customer
by bullets-embrace
Summary: Something about Blaine never fails to intoxicate Kurt beyond comprehension. But when a ghastly revelation results in a tempting offer on Kurt's part, will he have the strength to say no? Demon!Blaine/Kurt. T for themes and  over-the-clothes  boytouching.


_"Meet me in the senior commons after French class. Alone. B x"_

Kurt's grip tightened on his coffee cup as he read the text one last time, chewing his lip furiously. It frustrated him that Blaine seemed to have this pathetic hold over him, even via SMS. It was like Kurt was powerless not to do exactly what Blaine asked. He wasn't sure when this whole thing had started exactly, but it had come to the point where Kurt no longer cared. Ever since Kurt had first seen Blaine on the main staircase, any and all feelings of confusion and panic simply seeped away. All he saw was this beautiful, striking boy with large golden-brown eyes and lustrous dark hair, full lips curved in an inquisitive smirk. Everything about him took Kurt's breath away. And something about him kept him coming back for more.

And the worst part? Whatever Blaine wanted, Kurt would do it willingly. Happily, in fact. Just the other day he'd stood in line for half an hour in the cafeteria because Blaine had asked to meet him there. Usually Kurt would be outraged that Blaine stood him up, offended deeply (and rightly so), and would flounce off in a huff before the final clamour of the end-of-lunch bell.

But no. Kurt found himself hanging onto Blaine's every word, soaking up his presence. It was as if the very air Blaine breathed was tinged with a dash of something heady and enticing, drawing Kurt in and blinding his senses until everything was completely obscured by this sensation of pure, dizzying, intoxicating _want._

Which is why he was still sitting in that same plush seat, cradling a rapidly cooling mocha with one hand and tapping nervously on his cell phone's protective outer cover with the other as he waited. Whistling tunelessly, Kurt let his eyes fall shut and his head tilt back against the headrest. He wasn't worried. Blaine would show. He always showed.

"Ah, there you are."

A smile curled on Kurt's lips, his stomach flip flopping. The voice came from behind him, smooth and hushed; he could recognise those tones anywhere. He sat bolt upright instantly.

"Blaine?"

"Who else?"

The slightly shorter boy dropped into the seat directly next to him. Blaine placed his hands carefully on the table only inches from Kurt's now laxly clenched fingers, still wrapped around the coffee cup- but only just. Kurt had to remind himself to keep breathing when Blaine's eyes met his own, forefinger twitching has he repressed the urge to stroke Blaine's hand. It was so close, so close he could touch it.

But Blaine moved first, chuckling. "Anyone ever tell you that you drink far too much coffee, Kurt Hummel?" Blaine asked, extending a couple of fingers to rest atop Kurt's own.

"Many people, actually, " Kurt retorted drily as he dropped his hand from the cup completely, "But I can't seem to kick the habit."

Blaine didn't move his fingers, watching Kurt's face as he pulled the chair in closer, wooden legs scratching the polished floor and causing Kurt to flinch. He hated harsh sounds.

"Yet another caffeine addict," Blaine tutted morosely, lightly tapping his thumb and forefinger against Kurt's wrist, "I sure know how to pick them."

His eyebrows furrowed at the comment. "You sure know how to pick who?"

"Friends."

"All your friends are addicted to grande non-fat mochas?"

"Only a select few."

Kurt nodded in response, not sure what Blaine was saying but in no rush to ask. For now he just wanted to focus on _not _falling out of his chair and royally embarrassing himself. Blaine's presence- his aura- seemed about twenty times more powerful today, overwhelming Kurt completely. It was difficult enough not to stammer upon every word.

Blaine gave him a sidelong look, hand gripping Kurt's properly this time. "You seem nervous."

"Just," Kurt cleared his throat, moving to shift uncomfortably in his seat as his clutched hand began to tingle bizarrely, "Just tired. I haven't really um... been sleeping well."

Blaine gave a shallow, short nod. "The nightmares again?"

"Y-yeah."

Suddenly, Blaine was grasping his hand with both of his own, body angled so Kurt was forced to look at him dead-on in the eyes; intense hazel irises trained steadily on him, Kurt was powerless to turn away.

"Nightmares of your mother the day she died?" Blaine muttered, squeezing tight, "Nightmares of her crawling out of her grave, coming to find you? Nightmares of you as a little boy, desperately searching for your mommy but then falling away into nothingness?" Blaine's eyes hardened. It scared Kurt, but he couldn't look away. "You've been having these nightmares for a while, haven't you Kurt?"

Breath hitched in Kurt's throat, his head spinning. Quickly he snatched his hand away from Blaine's iron grip and clutched them at his chest. His palms were already slick with sweat. How did Blaine know all that? Kurt knew he'd only ever told him very vague details of his nightmares, the most insignificant of things, and here Blaine was reciting them as if reading it all from an open book.

"How are you- Blaine, how d-did you-?"

"It doesn't matter how I know, Kurt," Blaine spoke softly, soothingly, eyes melting into pools of molten chocolate that had Kurt forgetting for a second why he was so afraid, "But I do. And I want to help you."

_There it is again,_ Kurt thought as Blaine reached out with a single hand to rub his shoulder sympathetically. Something in the pit of Kurt's stomach was screaming at him to get out of the room, to get into his car and drive home _now. _But gazing into those eyes, those beautiful, flawless eyes... how could someone so perfect be bad?

"You've helped me so much these past few months," Blaine whispered, rising to his feet and moving to stand behind Kurt's seat, warm hand never leaving Kurt's shoulder, "I just want to return the favour. I know what you want, Kurt Hummel," He leaned down, speaking against the pale shell of Kurt's ear as both of his hands began to rub small circles on Kurt's tired shoulders, fingers digging into all the tight knots, working the tension from his slight frame with ease, "I know exactly what you want, what you need. You're not happy. I see that. Everyone can see that. But I know what will make you happy, Kurt." Kurt moaned quietly and let his head fall back. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire, every cell of his being screaming for attention. _It's too much._

Blaine's lips snuck down the newly exposed curve of Kurt's throat, sprinkling tiny kisses across his milky skin, breath hot against his clammy flesh. All the while his hands kept kneading Kurt's shoulders in deep, repetitive strokes.

"Let me make you happy."

Kurt didn't know what had come over him, but before he knew what he was doing he was scrambling up from the chair and grabbing the lapels of Blaine's blazer with both hands, pulling their bodies together. He dived for a kiss, but Blaine turned his head just in time.

"That's not how the game works, I'm afraid."

Just as quickly, Kurt found himself pinned to the wall next to the heavy oak doors. Blaine's hands gripped his wrists high above his head and he was using this new vantage point to lick slowly up Kurt's throat, swiveling his tongue across the delicate bob of his Adam's apple, nipping lightly at the adorable dimple in his chin. Blaine had always been fond of that particular physical aspect of Kurt. Then again, pressed up against him like this in an otherwise empty room, Blaine realised there were a lot of parts of Kurt that he was really quite fond of. Experimentally, he ground his hips against the writhing boy, grinning when he felt Kurt's reaction to the movement. Kurt whimpered against Blaine's cheek and desperately tried to return the pressure, barely breathing.

_He really is beautiful,_ Blaine mused, lowering Kurt's arms and swiping his tongue appreciatively across his jawline, _It'll be a shame when the hell hounds rip him limb from limb._

"B-Blaine-"

"Shh, sweetheart." Blaine brought a hand up to press a finger to his lips, proceeding to lean forward and brush the other side of said finger against Kurt's open mouth. Kurt let out a low gargle that was supposed to be a word of some sort, and Blaine couldn't help but run his finger down the side of Kurt's pale face as he brought it from his lips.

_So damn beautiful_.

"Let me make one thing clear," Blaine spoke sternly, outstretching an arm to settle his palm near the side of Kurt's wide-eyed face, "I don't do this kind of thing very often. Usually there's this whole set up where you need to seek me out yourself, crossroads and little box of personal effects and all, but what can I say," Blaine laughed low, bringing his other hand up to cup Kurt's neck, stroking his sublimely soft skin, "You move me, Kurt."

The taller boy shivered, licking his lips. He knew he should be afraid- the way Blaine was acting, the way he was talking? Yeah, he sounded like a serial killer or something out of a horror film. But he couldn't bring himself to _not _want him.

"What are you going to do?" Kurt whispered shakily, looking from Blaine's eyes to his lips and back again, "What are you going to do to... to make me happy?"

"I'm going to give you something," Blaine replied in a very matter-of-fact tone, leaning in to fix Kurt with a reassuring smile, "Something you really, really want." Because it was true: Blaine knew exactly what Kurt wanted. He knew exactly what he could offer him that would result in Blaine finally sinking his claws into that delectable soul of his, that soul that was practically blinding him with its innocence and youth, and he wasn't going to waste this opportunity. "But first, I have a surprise for you. Do you want to see?"

Kurt nodded eagerly.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

Blaine merely smirked, looking down at the floor. "As you wish."

When he looked back up again, Kurt's stomach dropped. Those pools of deep, gold-flecked hazelnut brown where his eyes should have been were replaced with glowing orbs of red, fiery cores rimmed with a thin circlet of the most sinister black imaginable. Kurt tried to scream, but all that emerged from his supposedly broken vocal chords was a strangled yelp. Fluttering his eyelashes, Blaine simply cocked his head and pouted, scarlet eyes boring almost painfully into Kurt's.

"What's the matter? Don't you think I'm pretty anymore?"

Blaine snorted once more before blinking, and the ominous red discolouring vanished without so much as a barely audible flickering noise. Kurt's mouth was still dry, his mind a whirl. He didn't know what he thought anymore. He didn't know what thoughts _were_ anymore. He was in shock.

"I can bring her back, Kurt. I can bring your mom back for you," Blaine whispered against Kurt's lips, running both hands up and down his angelic face, never breaking eye contact. "You can have a family again. A proper family. Your _real _family. No surrogate mommy, no fake big brother who doesn't really care about you. Just you, your dad, and your mom. Reunited. And all it takes is a kiss. Just one kiss, that's all. Unless, of course," Blaine's voice dropped to that low, throaty register that seemed to speak directly to Kurt's southern region, his hands skimming down over Kurt's thighs and under, "You're down for more."

Kurt did his best to ignore Blaine's wandering hands and focused on his words. _He can bring her back. He can bring mom back. Maybe... maybe the nightmares..._

"Yes, Kurt," Blaine agreed, fingering the belt-loops of Kurt's pants, "Maybe the nightmares will stop once you get her back. In fact, I guarantee that they will. Consider it a bonus."

"Blaine," Kurt gripped Blaine's elbows, breath coming in shudders. He clenched his eyes shut, steadied himself despite the feeling that he was caught underwater in a tidal pool, and opened his eyes to see Blaine staring back at him calmly. His eyes weren't red or inky black. They were Blaine's eyes and they were perfect. _I can trust him_.

"Can you... can you really do it?"

"Of course," Blaine smiled, really smiled this time, rubbing Kurt's forearms and nudging his foot with the toe of his shoe, "But there is a slight catch. You don't have to worry about it for a few years-"

"How many?"

"Ten."

Kurt sucked his teeth, considering. He had no idea what the catch was, yet already he was halfway ready to accept the offer. Because... _his mother... is it worth it?_

"Well, I don't know what your definition of 'worth it' is, but in my opinion, ten wonderful years with your mother is better than fifty without her," Blaine offered casually, walking his fingertips up Kurt's starched white school shirt, over his chest and ending with a light-hearted tap on his nose. Kurt gazed at him fearfully, fingers curling into the fabric of Blaine's blazer._ Nothing good can come of this_, his mind warned, but Kurt had made up his mind.

"Deal."

Pouting, Blaine let his hands trail down to tug at Kurt's tie. His eyes flashed red again and Kurt hissed in retaliation. "You 100% sure, _mon cheri?_ This is one bargain you can't ever go back on, Kurt. You'll have to pay up when they come calling," He paused to shoot Kurt his signature snide grin, eyes flickering back to their original colour. Humming softly, he closed in on Kurt's mouth, letting his warm breath mingle with his client's. "And trust me when I say that they don't take too well to latecomers."

"Y-yes. I'm sure. Do it."

"As you wish."

Biting back yet another cackle of success, Blaine placed his right forefinger under Kurt's smooth chin, tilted his head back, and pressed their mouths together. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but as Kurt slid his arm around Blaine's shoulders to deepen the kiss, practically falling into him, Blaine had never felt more wanted. Or guilty. Guilty of cheating yet another teenage boy out of a long, tumultuous life. Guilty of being dangerously close to caring about this particular teenage boy. But most of all, guilty because he somehow knew that despite this deal he'd made, Kurt would never be wholly happy. No human ever truly was.

Still, it wasn't Blaine's problem.

Kurt Hummel: another satisfied customer.


End file.
